


Just Say It

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, My First Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 22:10:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Louis set his hands on Harry’s knees and met his eyes. 'Talk to me. What else do you have bottled up inside that head of yours?' He softly rubbed Harry’s legs, hoping to coax a response out of him.</p>
<p>Suddenly, the words that Harry had finally formed in his head tumbled out. 'Sometimes, I wish we weren't in One Direction.'"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Say It

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head ever since the beanie incident with Harry. I just never had the time to write it until now.
> 
> I wrote this in less than four hours, so it's not going to be my best.. I promise I'll write longer and better one shots in the future.
> 
> I hope you like it, and thank you .xx

He knew they didn’t mean to do it; he understood that.

But, without warning, it just kind of happened, quickly, he thought. One moment, he stood among their fans, each one of them smiling and rapidly handing him papers and phones and arms to write on. And in the middle of signing a hand, it happened: someone around him, someone he couldn’t see, tore his beanie off.

They didn’t know though; they didn’t know that he was having a dreadful hair day, and they didn’t know that he would immediately start frantically looking around for his hat. Appearance is everything in a job such as theirs, and he was, he thought, most certainly not at his best.

So the best Harry could do was to ask for his beanie back, politely, of course, because, even though he wasn’t happy, he was never one to get mad at their fans. After all, they didn’t know.

But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

When he finally pushed through the crowd and quickly put his hat back on, he hoped that no more pictures were taken, though he already knew the damage was done. In minutes, his chaotic bad-hair day would be posted on every media site. Girls would reblog it and retweet it and comment on it.

Harry couldn’t help but think about this when he walked in the hotel. He nibbled lightly on his bottom lip as his right hand ticked over his phone in his pocket. He wanted to take it out, but he feared the pictures he might see and the comments he might read. So he set out for the elevator and headed up to their private floor.

The elevator dinged, and Harry turned right and went down the hall. His left hand slid into his back pocket and retrieved his ¾ their ¾ room key. Fluidly, as if by habit, he stopped at the door and seamlessly unlocked it, quickly walking in and shutting the door for what he hoped was the night. Locking the door behind him, he heard the light chatter of foreign words echoing through the suite. He walked down the entrance hall, past the tiny kitchen and the bathroom and through the small seating area, and stopped in the bedroom.

On the king-sized mattress sat Louis, propped up against the headboard by a pillow, listlessly watching a foreign program on the television. His expression was bored, his bottom lip pursing out just a bit, as his blank blue eyes scanned the television for something he could understand. His hair jutted out every which way, no piece lying completely flat on his head. In one hand was the remote; in the other was his iPhone. 

“I’ve been here for over thirty minutes, and everything on this damn television is in a different language. Can’t a man catch a break?” Louis changed the channel, and what sounded like a different language floated through the room.

Harry silently walked over to the bed and sat down next to Louis, their legs touching. Before he knew it, Louis’ head fell quietly on Harry’s shoulder, a small sigh falling from his lips. “I missed you today.” His eyes stayed on the television.

Harry gave a weak smile, it not really reaching his lips. “I missed you, too.” He scanned the program but found nothing redeeming. 

Louis put the remote down between he and Harry and rested his hand on Harry’s upper thigh, and gingerly, he picked his head up. Instantly, Harry felt Louis’ stare. “You’re awfully quiet. Something wrong?” 

Harry licked his lips, sucking his bottom lip in and drawing his teeth over it. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Louis just yet. His thoughts were racing, but the words weren’t forming in his head. So he just sat there and stared at the television set.

“Harry Edward Styles,” Louis said, bringing his hand up to Harry’s right cheek. He slowly turned Harry’s face, and Harry blinked into Louis’ eyes. “Now I know something is wrong.” Louis frowned, his bottom lip popping out. 

So Harry said the only thing that would prevent him from having to explain what exactly was wrong: “Look online.” At the moment, those were the only two words that Harry actually could form in his thought-clogged head.

Louis knew this game. “Twitter or tumblr?”

“Either or.”

And with that, Louis slowly picked up his phone and clicked on the tumblr app. Unfortunately, this game was not one that Louis enjoyed playing with Harry. When this happened, when Harry was quiet and reserved, Louis knew that something public occurred, something that hurt Harry. Louis just hoped that it was something he could persuade Harry on because, in Harry’s mind, things were always worse than what they really were.

Without even scrolling through his dashboard, he typed in “Harry styles” to track it. The first two pictures that came up weren’t new, an old tweet and a semi-recent candid photo. Louis smiled at Harry’s dimples in the picture before scrolling down more. By the third picture, he saw it, and he knew exactly what Harry was upset about. But Louis couldn’t help but smile just a little bit.

“Babe, it’s not that bad; you look precious.” Louis stared at the picture a bit longer, his smile slowly getting bigger.

“Louis…” Harry groaned, his hands coming up to cover his face.

“No, really, it’s not bad. Yeah, it’s not one of your best hair days, but we’ve all had our own.”

Harry spoke muffled behind huge hands. “But mine just happened to be public for the whole world to see.” He sighed. “I don’t even want to see how terrible it is.” He moved his hands to adjust his beanie, pulling it down a little more. Then, they fell silently at his sides, resting on the bed.

Louis couldn’t help but scroll down just a bit more, checking to see if there were other photos. It seemed to him like only one or two photos were posted, both of them sporting Harry’s hair as the main topic. As Louis read the captions and comments, his smile got even bigger.

“Hazza, relax.” Louis intertwined his fingers with Harry’s while holding his phone in his left hand. “What people are saying, it isn’t as bad as you think. Some are saying how adorable you look while others are commenting on how sweet you were in politely asking for your beanie back. There’s nothing hateful.” Louis closed tumblr and set down his phone. His eyes fell on Harry, who was staring at him. “Nothing bad.” Louis grinned, tightening his grip on Harry’s hand.

“I know I looked ridiculous, Lou. I don’t even have to see the pictures to know that. Someone, somewhere, I going to say or write something. I know it. It’s happened before; it’ll happen again.” Harry stared into Louis’ eyes, hoping to find some place to crawl into and hide from the publicity.

Louis brushed his free hand over Harry’s right cheek. “It won’t happen this time, love.” His voice was tender, soft. “It won’t.” He trailed his thumb down Harry’s jaw, feeling it tighten as Harry ground his teeth.

Harry’s voice was barely a whisper above the television. “You don’t know that. All it takes is one person. One person to take the picture and post it and another person to comment on it. Then, it starts a landslide. That one hateful comment sparks another of the same type. Suddenly, there are five remarks, ten, and slowly, more people voice their opinions. History repeats itself over and over again.”

Louis huffed and shut off the television. The room was instantly quiet as Louis shifted on the bed, nudging Harry’s legs in the process. “Hey, sit cross-legged.” Harry obliged, and Louis took a seat in front of Harry, mirroring him. He set his hands on Harry’s knees and met his eyes. “Talk to me. What else do you have bottled up inside that head of yours?” He softly rubbed Harry’s legs, hoping to coax a response out of him.

Suddenly, the words that Harry had finally formed in his head tumbled out. “Sometimes, I wish we weren’t in One Direction.”

That sentence hit Louis like a train, pushing the breath out of him. “What? Why do you say that? I thought you loved being in a band with us.”

Harry nodded slowly, his thoughts bubbling in his head; he knew Louis would take it this way. That was why he’d never told him. “I love being in a band. I love singing and writing music and being with you and the boys, but I don’t like the other things: the paparazzi and the conferences and the publicity. There are days I want to be able to go outside and look like that” ¾ he gestured towards Louis’ phone ¾ “and not have anyone care, but I can’t. There’s so much that I want to do, but because of our job, I can’t ¾ we can’t.” Harry’s voice cracked on the last word. He blinked and a tear fell on his lap.

Then, it all clicked for Louis. “Oh, Hazza…” He quickly wiped away the next tear about to fall and cupped Harry’s face. “I think this is about a lot more than just your hair today.”

Harry looked down. “I’ve been thinking about a lot today.”

Louis gently raised his chin to meet his eyes again. “Baby, I know this is difficult and I know you want certain things and, believe me, I do, too; but we just have to wait a bit longer. Everything will fall into place, I promise.” Louis gave a weak smile, trying to lighten Harry’s spirits.

“I’ve waited so long already, Lou… We’ve waited so long…” Louis was blurring in Harry’s vision, tears destined to fall clouding his eyes.

“Oh, Harry…” Louis stroked his cheek, wiping another tear.

Harry couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I just want to be able to walk down the street with your hand in mine while I have a bad-hair day. That’s all I want. Just you in my hand and by my side. And I can’t have that because of One Direction. We can’t have that freedom.”

Louis dropped his left hand to Harry’s upper thigh, comforting him as he stroked his right cheek with his thumb. “But Harry, we will have that freedom. It’s within our grasp, so close we can almost touch it. This tour will be over before we know it, and next year, that’s our year, baby. The year when we can have those dreadful bad-hair days together, pictures and all, and when we can plan to go out for an evening together and when we can kiss in public and not care who photographs us. It’s almost here. Right now, these are just the little obstacles, the insignificant things we’ll look back on when we’re older and wonder why we even worried. Because in the end, it will all be worth it, every single minute.”

Louis stopped Harry’s last tear from falling. He cupped his face again and leaned forward, sitting up on his knees. Louis pressed his lips to Harry’s as Harry’s arms eagerly wound their way around Louis. Through their mouths and tongues and lips, Harry voicelessly agreed with Louis. Louis’ hands threaded their way through Harry’s hair as he thought about the future that he and Louis would have. The image was dull this afternoon, clouded by possible hateful comments about something Harry couldn’t control. But as Louis’ tongue traced Harry’s bottom lip, Harry realized that, no matter the words written or said, Louis would be his rock, whatever the situation. 

Because despite the things that Harry hated, the greatest thing that came out of being in One Direction was the man in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you for reading.
> 
> My tumblr that associates with this account is he-who-is-brave-is-free-xx, as a side note.
> 
> Again, thank you so much .xx


End file.
